_Reconciliation_
WHEN it was understood that the Duke of St. James had been delirious,
public feeling reached what is called its height; that is to say, the
curiosity and the ignorance of the world were about equal. Everybody was
indignant, not so much because the young Duke had been shot, but because
they did not know why. If the sympathy of the women could have consoled
him, our hero might have been reconciled to his fate. Among these, no
one appeared more anxious as to the result, and more ignorant as to
the cause, than Mrs. Dallington Vere. Arundel Dacre called on her the
morning ensuing his midnight observation, but understood that she had
not seen Sir Lucius Grafton, who, they said, had quitted London, which
she thought probable. Nevertheless Arundel thought proper to walk down
Hill Street at the same hour, and, if not at the same minute, yet in due
course of time, he discovered the absent man.
In two or three days the young Duke was declared out of immediate
danger, though his attendants must say he remained exceedingly restless,
and by no means in a satisfactory state; yet, with their aid, they had
a right to hope the best. At any rate, if he were to go off, his friends
would have the satisfaction of remembering that all had been done
that could be; so saying, Dr. X. took his fee, and Surgeons Y. and Z.
prevented his conduct from being singular.
Now began the operations on the Grafton side. A letter from Lady
Aphrodite full of distraction. She was fairly mystified. What could
have induced Lucy suddenly to act so, puzzled her, as well it might. Her
despair, and yet her confidence in his Grace, seemed equally great. Some
talk there was of going off to Cleve at once. Her husband, on the whole,
maintained a rigid silence and studied coolness. Yet he had talked of
Vienna and Florence, and even murmured something about public disgrace
and public ridicule. In short, the poor lady was fairly worn out, and
wished to terminate her harassing career at once by cutting the Gordian
knot. In a word, she proposed coming on to her admirer and, as she
supposed, her victim, and having the satisfaction of giving him his
cooling draughts and arranging his bandages.
If the meeting between the young Duke and Sir Lucius Grafton had been
occasioned by any other cause than the real one, it is difficult to say
what might have been the fate of this proposition. Our own opinion is,
that this work would have been only in one volume; for the requisite
morality would have made out the present one; but, as it was, the
image of Miss Dacre hovered above our hero as his guardian genius. He
despaired of ever obtaining her; but yet he determined not wilfully to
crush all hope. Some great effort must be made to right his position.
Lady Aphrodite must not be deserted: the very thought increased his
fever. He wrote, to gain time; but another billet, in immediate answer,
only painted increased terrors, and described the growing urgency of her
persecuted situation. He was driven into a corner, but even a stag at
bay is awful: what, then, must be a young Duke, the most noble animal in
existence?
Ill as he was, he wrote these lines, not to Lady Aphrodite, but to her
husband:--
‘My Dear Grafton,
‘You will be surprised at hearing from me. Is it necessary for me to
assure you that my interference on a late occasion was accidental? And
can you, for a moment, maintain that, under the circumstances, I could
have acted in a different manner? I regret the whole business; but most
I regret that we were placed in collision.
‘I am ready to cast all memory of it into oblivion; and, as I
unintentionally offended, I indulge the hope that, in this conduct, you
will bear me company.
‘Surely, men like us are not to be dissuaded from following our
inclinations by any fear of the opinion of the world. The whole affair
is, at present, a mystery; and I think, with our united fancies,
some explanation may be hit upon which will render the mystery quite
impenetrable, while it professes to offer a satisfactory solution.
‘I do not know whether this letter expresses my meaning, for my mind is
somewhat agitated and my head not very clear; but, if you be inclined
to understand it in the right spirit, it is sufficiently lucid. At any
rate, my dear Grafton, I have once more the pleasure of subscribing
myself, faithfully yours,
‘St. James.’
This letter was marked ‘Immediate,’ consigned to the custody of Luigi,
with positive orders to deliver it personally to Sir Lucius; and, if not
at home, to follow till he found him.
He was not at home, and he was found at----‘s Clubhouse. Sullen,
dissatisfied with himself, doubtful as to the result of his fresh
manouvres, and brooding over his infernal debts, Sir Lucius had stepped
into----, and passed the whole morning playing desperately with Lord
Hounslow and Baron de Berghem. Never had he experienced such a smashing
morning. He had long far exceeded his resources, and was proceeding with
a vague idea that he should find money somehow or other, when this note
was put into his hand, as it seemed to him by Providence. The signature
of Semiramis could not have imparted more exquisite delight to a
collector of autographs. Were his long views, his complicated objects,
and doubtful results to be put in competition a moment with so decided,
so simple, and so certain a benefit? certainly not, by a gamester. He
rose from the table, and with strange elation wrote these lines:--
‘My Dearest Friend,
‘You forgive me, but can I forgive myself? I am plunged in overwhelming
grief. Shall I come on? Your mad but devoted friend,
‘Lucius Grafton.
‘The Duke of St. James.’
They met the same day. After a long consultation, it was settled that
Peacock Piggott should be entrusted, in confidence, with the secret
of the affair: merely a drunken squabble, ‘growing out’ of the Bird of
Paradise. Wine, jealousy, an artful woman, and headstrong youth will
account for anything; they accounted for the present affair. The story
was believed, because the world were always puzzled at Lady Aphrodite
being the cause. The Baronet proceeded with promptitude to make the
version pass current: he indicted ‘The Universe’ and ‘The New World;’
he prosecuted the caricaturists; and was seen everywhere with his wife.
‘The Universe’ and ‘The New World’ revenged themselves on the Signora;
and then she indicted them. They could not now even libel an opera
singer with impunity; where was the boasted liberty of the press?
In the meantime the young Duke, once more easy in his mind, wonderfully
recovered; and on the eighth day after the Ball of Beauty he returned to
the Pavilion, which had now resumed its usual calm character, for fresh
air and soothing quiet.